United States or Puerto Rico ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Much sobered by the importance of the news he had to communicate, youthful Thomas strode into the house and said breathlessly: "Mother, they have a new baby next door, and the lady over there is awful sick. Mother, you ought to go right in and see her." "Yes, dear," said his mother. "I will go over in a day or two just as soon as she gets better." "But, mother," persisted Thomas.
"Then I came here, or he brought me here. I was all alone. Little Laurel must have been a baby, when one morning I found her at my side. Dear, sweet little cherub. He told me since that her mother had died!" Jack did not venture an interruption. It all seemed too sacred for the lips of strangers to break in upon. "Then we lived here.
He fashioned his arms as though he were holding a baby, "and I look at you and I say 'Pierre! Pierre! But you do not answer just like he did not answer. Then I start back with you, and the way was rough. I take you under one arm so. It was steep. I must have one arm free. Then I meet Medaine, and she laugh at me for the way I carry you. And I was glad. Eet made Ba'teese forget." "What?"
Well, it is a tedious matter, this getting a new house; but I couldn't have set about it sooner, unless our ten thousand pounds had been a hundred thousand, when we could have afforded to despise caution." "No I don't mind waiting I would rather stay here twelve months longer than run any risk with baby. But I don't like your vanishing so in the evenings.
Sylvia longed to be a mother, and was married at twenty-one to Henry Burgess, the son of Benjamin C. Burgess, editor of the Morning Appeal. There was a baby the first year. Myrtle was dreaming through algebra and trigonometry, wondering whether she would teach or get married, for the moderate prosperity of the family demanded that she do something.
"That baby, too," said Charlotte, her brows knitted, as if the whole thing troubled her. "The baby ain't right." Just what Nan said. What witchery women had! "What's the matter with the baby?" he asked, and was nettled at the roughness of his voice. Charlotte shook her head and seemed to shake off perplexed imaginings. "I dunno," she said again. "But suthin' is. An' that's the queer part on't.
She dripped, in the process, as if, Tenney used to tell her in the first days of their marriage, she got in all over. In her bedroom, with the sweet air on her bare arms and the robins calling and the general tumult and busy ecstasy outside, she stopped to wonder. Could she take the baby and slip out by the side door, and come back in time to fry Tenney's ham for dinner? No, it wouldn't do.
In these days before the funeral, I saw but little of Peggotty, except that, in passing up or down stairs, I always found her close to the room where my mother and her baby lay, and except that she came to me every night, and sat by my bed's head while I went to sleep.
Panch-Phul Ranee answered, "Kind friend, this is not my baby; he did not die; he was the image of his father, and fairer than this child. Someone must have taken him away, for but a little while ago, I held him in my arms, and he was strong and well, while this one could never have been more than a puny, weakly infant. Take me away; I will go home with you."
Arriving at the minister's gate, I was invited in with a whole-heartedness that was altogether charming. The minister's wife, a faded-looking woman who had once possessed a delicate sort of prettiness, was waiting for us on the steps with a fine chubby baby on her arm number five. At the very first glimpse of the garden I wanted to throw off my coat and go at it.
Word Of The Day